


Simple Satisfaction

by Bloodharpie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Armor Kink, F/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 05:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21265742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodharpie/pseuds/Bloodharpie
Summary: Once they've cleared the air of any and all expectations, Hilda and Sylvain learned just how fun their friendship could be.Just a small PWP to get you going.





	Simple Satisfaction

Against a rock – a _wet_ rock, no less – in the muddy woods, in the middle of the day, was not Hilda's idea of a sexy location for a hurried tryst. Add in the fact that the entirety of her class was all but fifty yards away setting up camp, and she'd call the entire situation downright crazy.

And yet, there she was.

They'd silently communicated the idea via heated looks and teasing smiles by the campfire. Two practiced excuses and a little perfect timing later, Hilda was being pushed up against a mossy boulder while her mouth was ravaged by one very horny Sylvain. Her heart was drumming hard enough that she was almost surprised she couldn't hear it echoing off of his chest plate. He thrilled her when he was like this. Wild, hungry, demanding. Competent.

His teeth dragged over her already swelling lower lip, and she parted them immediately. She felt him shiver under her fingers, his covered hands dragging themselves up her armored sides, and his tongue slid hot against her own. 'Mmm,' he hummed against her mouth, and she smiled, tickled by the attractive rumble in his voice, melting under his ministrations.

The wind stirred at the sodden branches hanging above them as they devoured each other, rustling through the leaves and showering them with stray drops of rain. Sylvain pulled back, ever the romantic, and watched with heated eyes as the water splashed against Hilda's flushed face. She amped the look for him, tilting her head back and parting her heated lips, angling her hips against his thigh as she sighed. He let out another little rumble, hands tightening around her, encouraging her to keep going as he slid his leg between her own.

Sylvain just...got it, Hilda thought as she began to rock against his hard thigh. Pleasure shivered through her, electric heat pooling between her legs while she worked. He understood the difference between satisfaction and commitment. It's why this worked. Why she could drop her head back against the moss, close her eyes, open her mouth and moan while she rutted against him like some wanton animal. Far from judging her, Sylvain helped brace her as she ground out her pleasure against him, his eyes hungrily drinking in the glow on his partner's face as she panted and moaned. He always liked to make sure she got going first. He was a gentleman, after all.

Hilda mewled as her pleasure mounted and he ducked his head, nipping and licking over her sweat salted skin while his slid his hands from her hips to the back of her thighs. Sylvain loved Hilda's legs, strong and full where they flexed against his roaming hands. He pinched at the meat of her ass and a panting giggle bubbled out of her mouth. She was ticklish _everywhere_. He grinned against her neck and slid the searching hand further, sliding and pressing over her folds while she pushed into him. He groaned her name, pressing the digit harder, and she writhed against him. She was really into it, today. So much so that her heat permeated her under things, pants, and the thick leather of his glove as he stroked against her. His head swam as he anticipated sinking himself into that heat, and she whined in weak protest as his thigh shifted inadvertently away.

“Sorry,” he breathed, moving to adjust back into position, but she swatted him away. Her hands flew to the front of armor, one yanking impatiently at the bindings of his bottoms while the other slid longingly over his codpiece. “Uh-uh,” he hummed, catching her hands and dragging them back to the rock. He tugged at her bottoms instead, thick fingers fumbling over the leather lacing them tight under her skirt.

“Hurry up,” she complained, her hands dropping to the fur lined skirt and hauling it up out of his way so he could see. He laughed at her impatience, yanking the last of the string away, and pulled them open.

“As you wish.” He watched her as his hand slid into her underthings, his armored digits stroking roughly through her sopping curls. Watched the momentary flicker of discomfort across her brow before her face utterly melted, sinking into liquid pleasure as his practiced hand worked over her swollen clit. She really was close, he thought as she jerked against him, spreading her legs the best she could while standing. He shifted, his free arm grasping her around the waist and pulling her back to his chest. She braced her forearms against the rock and pressed against him harder, panting.

Sylvain wanted nothing more than to free himself from his armor and bury himself into the writhing girl before him, the images of doing just that making him throb as he pressed insistently over her clit, circling and stroking in equal and practiced measure. But it would take a minute to get the armor out of the way, and he knew damn well how quickly an orgasm escaped a woman. No, he wanted Hilda to peak. To tumble over the edge and get her satisfaction before it slipped away.

She was angling her hips with his strokes, now, every other thrust bringing his fingers dangerously close to breaching her entrance. Fully aware of how not-fun a gauntlet would be in that department, he pressed himself forward and levered his weight down to still her movements. Sylvain leaned in, soft lips caressing her ear, hot breath torturous over her skin as he panted with her, flicking his fingers in all of Hilda's favorite patterns. He watched as it came speeding toward her, as her shoulders tightened and her head slumped and her hips stilled, coiled in anticipation. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked it back, crashing his mouth over hers and forcing his tongue into her mouth to swallow the loud moan that burst from her chest.

Hilda spasmed against him lightly, singing her pleasure in sweet moans as he claimed her mouth once more. Reluctantly he pulled his hand back from her sweet spot, stroking over and around her instead while she came down. Over sensitivity wasn't Hilda's jam, and he respected that. He waited as she came down from the high, her breathing evening out and muscles relaxing against him. “Good?” He teased when she was fully relaxed, and she laughed, nodding. “Good.” He hummed, nuzzling his nose to her cheek.

She shifted, turning back to face him, eyes bright with satisfaction and lips curled with mischief. “Your turn,” she cooed. He licked his lips. Yes, please. Her hands slid up his arms, searching under his shoulder pads for the ties to his chest plate while he watched her. They'd tried doing this with it still on, before, but the damn thing got all kinds of in the way. It was a hassle, but she was patient, and Sylvain busied himself with thoughts of what was to come. He gave her a teasing smile as she got the first bits free, and he brought his soaked glove up to his lips as the metal loosened around his chest. Her eyes lit with surprise, and then heat as he slid the fingers that had just been buried in her pants over his own heated lips.

“You taste good,” he murmured, sliding his tongue over the cloth in emphasis.

“Tease,” she breathed, yanking the armor the rest of the way off.

He flexed his shoulders and shivered as the spring breeze cooled his sweat-damp undershirt. Hilda set to freeing him of his hip piece – the last thing, he knew, that he got to be free of. She really seemed to dig him leaving his legs and arms all armored up when they did this. He wondered, not for the first time, where such a kink could have gotten started.

Hilda made a triumphant little noise as the piece finally fell to the ground with a muffled thud. She ducked, pulling one side of his discarded chest plate over, and set it between them, curved side to the ground. Sylvain huffed out a laugh as she delicately kneeled over the warm fabric lining the inside, and looked up at him. Her teeth bit at the fingertips of her own gloves, yanking them off while her eyes dared him to challenge her using his armor to kneel in the mud. Satisfied with his silence, she tossed the gloves onto the grass and eagerly slid her palms up over the front of the finally exposed bulge before her.

Any teasing Sylvain might have had planned died on his hips at the contact, thinking better of it as he bit over them and braced himself on the rock behind her. “You better not make me regret doing this,” she warned him as she stroked over his own heated center, eagerly tugging that the ties that were keeping him hidden away. “I expect a thorough debauching before we go back to camp.”

“Hmm, you'd better not stay down there long, then,” he moaned shivering as she pulled him free of the cloth. Her strong yet soft hands were magic over him, stroking from base to tip in perfect cadence. “I'm only a man, after all.”

Hilda didn't bother with a reply, choosing instead to lean forward and bury her face against his abdomen while she stroked. Call her weird, or gross, or whatever, but she _loved_ the smell of a sweaty man. Particularly this man, who took care of himself and bathed with scented oils that, when mixed with his own scent, were enough to make her downright dizzy. She breathed deeply, running her lips over his twitching muscles and letting her lips fall open, her heated breath ghosting over him. She nuzzled his shaft, reveling in the silky soft skin, her lips catching against the heated flesh as she looked up at him, eyes closed in pleasure, face twisted.

He groaned when she slipped her lips over him, her tongue catching over his slit in search of the sharp tang of his arousal. He moaned her name on shaky breath and she smiled, pushing him fully into her mouth and suckling at him just the way he liked it. Her hand dropped to the base of his shaft, squeezing before she stroked it up to her lips. Really, she wouldn't be all that angry if he didn't last. The look on his face when he watched her swallow up his load was usually worth the loss of the grand finale. Besides, it also usually meant he would find her later and doubly make up for the early finish. A large hand tangled in her hair and she moaned, the scent of her own arousal drifting from it as he pushed and pulled lightly.

Still, she thought as she sucked harder, ears happily tuned to the delicious little encouragements he crooned for her, they would be in tents that night. Shared tents, no less. And she wasn't exactly keen on repeating this little adventure in the dark. So she paid attention, carefully monitoring the shift of his hips, the catch of his breath, the flex of his thigh. All the while her tongue hungrily slid over him, reveling in every dip and swell, every little shiver that trembled through him as she sucked. He was wonderfully receptive, and she loved every moment of it.

“Hilda,” he warned, just as she pulled her head away, groaning nonetheless as she straightened. She kicked the chest plate out of the way and smiled at him, fitting their mouths back together as he roughly grabbed her and hauled her up against the rock. She reached between them and grasped firmly at his base, and he swore, his voice strained and forehead dropping against her shoulder. Still, she knew it was alright. He'd taught her this trick, himself. He bit lightly at the exposed skin under his mouth as she pulled him gently back from the edge. She honestly hated doing this to him, it felt selfish, blatantly so, in a way she always fought hard to hide. But he leaned his head back and looked at her, and the heat in his eyes had her imagining they would begin to flicker with the flame hidden within. “I'm good,” he finally said, and the following “thank you,” always made her feel much better.

She giggled, her heart light with anticipation even as it rattled in her ribcage as he grasped the back of her thighs and hauled her up, hooking his arms under her knees. She reveled in the flexing chords of muscles under his pale skin as he supported her in their favorite position, and she groaned with frustration as he ground up against her still covered groin. “Whoops,” he panted, blinking down at the barrier.

“C'_mon_, Sylvain,” she hissed. The apologetic look on his handsome face vanished, replaced with a devilish smirk.

“Mmkay.” He shifted forward, pressing his chest roughly into hers to take some of her weight and sending the air lightly out of her lungs. One arm moved from where it was bracing her, the side of his armored hand dragging against her covered crotch. Then, without so much as a “do you mind?” he hooked the joint of the gauntlet over a fold in the cloth, easily ripping it open. Her mouth fell open. He chuckled, hooking his arm back under her knee and letting off on her chest. “Don't worry, I'll buy you a new pair,” he teased, his voice breathy. He pressed their foreheads together, humming as his throbbing head finally slid over her bare folds.

“You'd better,” she murmured, petulantly even as she gasped and arched against him. Then he was moving, and all objections fell away. The feeling of him sinking into her, the pressure as he parted her, the heat of his weight pressing into her body, was a bliss unmatched by most things. She felt her body tighten around him as though in an embrace, encouraging him to fill her more. Felt the responding throb in him as he complied, pressing firm and full and as deep as he could. Sylvain always liked to go slow with the first thrust. 'To feel every bit of her', he'd said. She tightened around him again, purposefully this time, and tightened her legs on his arms. “I love this part,” she breathed, and smiled at the laugh that burst from his mouth.

“Same,” he chuckled, and then he was moving, and she was gone. Her knees clenched around his armored arms, reveling in the feeling of the metal sticking and catching on her skin, complimenting the rough tempo of his rhythmic thrusts. She buried her fingers in his thick hair, tilting her head up to look at him, to show him how good it felt, letting it shine through her face with every satisfying thrust. Delicious tingles ricocheted through her muscles, making her flex and grip around him and driving the boy absolutely wild. She panted rough breaths through her parted lips, listening to how it would came out in little rushes at every thrust, how it echoed in his moans.

“Harder,” she whispered, watching him, shivering as his eyes narrowed. “Sylvain, _harder_.” He moaned, growled, swore all in one breath, his face burying in her neck as he surged forward, driving hard up into her again and again. She bit over his earlobe, dragged her mouth down his jaw, buried her fingernails between his shoulders. “_Fuck_,” she whimpered, legs trying to tighten around him again, suspended uselessly over his arms.

“Fuck,” he moaned back, yanking her body to meet him halfway as he drilled into her. He jerked his head back, throat visibly working over every little noise she was ripping out of him, and Hilda watched him fight his orgasm off. Not having it, one hand dropped from his shoulder to slip over where they were joined, sliding over her slick flesh and around his base. He swore again, hips stuttering, attention immediately turned to watch her hand. She bit her lip, bracing herself with the image of him before her, desperate and wild, and tightened her fingers around her clit with a little _twist_.

The effect was instant, leaving her crying out and dropping her head painfully back on the boulder, her body spasming around Sylvain as he stuttered and jerked against her, choking around a throaty moan of his own. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and held on for dear life as her body twitched through the forced orgasm, wave after wave flashing behind her eyes like a summer storm. She felt the warmth of his own climax running lightly out of her as he pulled out, gently lowering her legs back to the ground. They trembled as they took her weight again, feeling like jelly as they leaned together, fighting to regain their breath.

When he finally felt himself relaxing, Sylvain straightened up and pulled a clean handkerchief from his back pocket. Nuzzling the side of Hilda's face to save her the need to hide in her occasional post coital embarrassment, he slid it between her legs and gently cleaned up the mess he'd made. He folded it was he was done, sticking it in his back pocket with a wink, and she fixed her skirt with trembling hands. “We were _way_ too loud,” she finally said, her voice trembling at the edges with adrenaline.

“Hey, nobody came to see what we were up to.” He shrugged and gave her a lazy, unconcerned smile as he collected the bits of his armor from the ground. “When did you learn how to do that, anyway?” Hilda blinked, confused. “When you made yourself cum again, at the end. I usually have to wait, like, half an hour before you'll let me get you off again.” She felt the heat of a blush spill over her cheeks and looked away, busying herself with retrieving her gloves from the grass.

“I learned that ages ago,” she admitted, not looking at him. “It's not easy learning how to get yourself off, as a girl. One day I just got so frustrated, I just twisted it and, well...” she trailed off, still not looking at him. It had completely stunned her the first time she'd done it. Hilda was totally not into pain, but it had sent her crashing over that peak that had been alluding her for far, far too long.

“I think I know what I'm doing, next time,” he grinned, playfully batting at her retreating backside. “I can't wait.”


End file.
